One Day at a Time
by Volkihar
Summary: Tony is sure the decision to quit drinking was a momentously stupid one, fortunately Bruce is every bit as supportive as he promised to be. Or, if nothing else, an excellent distraction… Because his touch is every bit as intoxicating as a shot of Tequila.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and am not making any money from writing this.

**Warnings:** M/M Slash (Tony/Bruce - nothing graphic ), Swearing, alcohol withdrawals (could be a trigger for some folks?).

This is a companion piece to Arrows and Apples, but it can be read alone. Takes place after the end of chapter 20. Also does not mention or include any of my OCs from that story. Only canon characters!

* * *

**One Day at a Time**

* * *

Bruce read through the day's edition of the New York Times, pointedly ignoring his phone that lay on the table beside him. He must have received at least thirty texts in the past hour. Thirty texts most likely from one Tony Stark. He assumed that translated to two possible things: a boring board meeting, or a _really _boring board meeting.

"Are you going to check that?" Bruce raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Steve sitting next to him with a cup of a coffee in one hand and a chocolate donut in the other. He was already dressed in a horrible blue plaid shirt and khaki pants. Bruce couldn't help but think that Tony should really just turn Steve over to his tailor and let him go wild. Though, for entirely different reasons Bruce dreaded the day that Tony might very well do that to him instead.

They were in the penthouse lounge of the Avengers tower where they usually had morning coffee and breakfast with whoever happened to be around. It was just Bruce and Steve that morning. Tony was in a board of directors meeting at the Stark Industries corporate office (most likely, judging by the texts). God only knew where the others were.

"We both know who it is." Bruce said tartly and took a sip of his coffee. Steve chuckled and took a page of the newspaper that Bruce had discarded to read. His phone vibrated a few seconds later, absently he checked it and handed it to Bruce with a pained grimace on his face.

Bruce glanced at the screen and rolled his eyes.

"Hey Captain Chastity, tell Bruce to answer my texts or I'll make both of your phone wallpapers into a photo of Fury's dick."

Bruce sighed and handed Steve's phone back over. Gingerly, as though the thing might explode (one could never really tell with Tony), Bruce picked up his own phone and started scrolling through Tony's texts.

"I'm bored."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm really, really bored."

"Pepper's new secretary looks like a trap."

"Like seriously."

"That has to be a man."

"I'm still bored."

"Answer me!"

Bruce swore under his breath and kept scrolling through several similarly pointless messages until he came upon the important one that he very nearly missed.

"I feel like shit. I can't do this."

He sighed and looked back over at Steve. The super soldier was completely absorbed in an article about a World War II reenactment in Central Park next month. He looked none too pleased about it. The rest of the Avengers knew about Bruce attempting to help Tony with his drinking problem. Steve, due to him walking in on them by mistake (the poor thing) was the only one that actually knew about the type of relationship they really had. Or, had started all of a week ago. Bruce was glad both Tony and Steve had respected his wishes to keep his and Tony's romantic involvement a secret for the time being. He wasn't sure he could handle the media finding out about him and being labeled as Tony Stark's newest plaything.

"Yes, you can do it. Stop being dramatic. Call if you need to." Bruce typed quickly and went back to his newspaper.

"What does he want?" Steve asked without looking up.

"Nothing. He's bored. Why even ask?" Bruce grumbled and handed Steve the rest of the paper as he got up from the couch. "I'm going down to the lab if you need me."

* * *

Tony turned his phone over in his hands, checking it every couple of seconds in hopes of a response from Bruce. When he didn't get one, he'd just send another text. He must have sent him fifty by now. He hoped he wasn't bothering him, yet at the same time he childishly prayed that it was at least a little irritating. Let it never be said that Tony Stark is too mature to be annoying as fuck. Either way, this particular board meeting was even more hellish than usual.

Tony was miserable.

Withdrawals were like hangovers, but worse. So much worse. He was cold, shaky, and terrified that if he opened his mouth the woman next to him would be covered in vomit. Maybe. It'd probably just be dry heaves. Tony hadn't eaten anything since yesterday. He couldn't stand to look at food, let alone actually put it in his mouth. And that was saying nothing of the epic migraine. _Coffee._ He needed coffee.

Tony's eyes fell on the styrofoam cup in front of him bearing the Starbuck's logo. He'd picked it up on the way in but so far hadn't touched it. Shakily, he snatched it and brought it to his lips. The scent of it overwhelmed him, and it was everything he could do not to gag. He hastily sat it down as far away from him as physically possible and took a couple steadying breaths. He felt his phone vibrate in the pocket of his blazer and fished it out hoping to God it was Bruce so he wouldn't have to google 'giant black cocks' to make good on his threat to Steve.

"Yes, you can do it. Stop being dramatic. Call if you need to."

Tony heaved a sigh. Right now, there were two things he wanted. One, to be curled up in his bed in a fetal position preferably in Bruce's arms. Two, something – _anything –_ alcoholic to stop the withdrawals. He had half a mind to say fuck it and hit up the bar on the way home. He couldn't do this. He hadn't been joking when he told Bruce he wasn't sure if he could live without booze, because fuck if this wasn't killing him he didn't know what would.

He looked up at Pepper who was ranting about the company's excessive expenditures, as usual. She didn't need him here for this. When did she ever? Unless it had to do with new products or breakthroughs in the arc reactor and repulsor technologies, Tony wasn't needed at these meetings. He really had next to nothing to do with the financial end of the company. That was Pepper's job. He stroked his carefully trimmed goatee and looked down at his phone.

"Call if you need to."

Tony closed his eyes and sighed quietly. Maybe hearing Bruce's voice could convince him not to hop into his corvette and put Jarvis on autopilot to the nearest bar. He had to do this. Not just for himself, but for Bruce. He'd _promised_ to do this.

Tony raised his hand and cleared his throat. Pepper glared at him like a viper poised to strike. She knew the expression on his face, the patent 'Tony Stark is about to bail' look.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?" Pepper said cordially. What it really meant was somewhere along of lines of: 'Don't you dare leave on me now, you ass!'

"I have to go, sorry. Super hero stuff. Gotta… You know, save the world and… Stuff." Tony said with absolutely none of his usual flair for the dramatic. If anything the words sounded kind of monotone and hollow, if not forced.

"I will be right back, I just need to ask Mr. Stark something really quick." Tony heard Pepper say to the directors as he closed the door behind him. He thought to make a run for it, but she had him cornered faster than a cat with a mouse. Though, his movements were kind of sluggish to be fair.

"What's wrong, Tony?" Pepper asked, genuinely concerned. "You aren't yourself."

Tony thought about it for a moment and ran his fingers through his already disheveled dark hair. "I'm trying to quit drinking. And honestly I feel like shit. If I don't go lie down, I'm going to puke on someone and I don't think you want to handle the legal case for _that_." He said quickly. Pepper's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You really… What convinced you to do that? God knows you wouldn't listen to me." Pepper asked incredulously. Tony wondered for a moment if gingers truly don't have souls while he tried to come up with an answer that might satisfy her.

"I decided I'd rather die doing something stupid and reckless than from liver failure." Tony quipped halfheartedly. As expected, Pepper saw right through it.

"Right, well, if you ever decide to tell me you know where to find me. And… I guess I can manage to smooth over the board meetings for the next month. Just, don't waste my time. You better actually mean this." She said sharply and left him in the hall without another word. Beautiful, strong, perfect… Pepper. He really never did deserve her and it _still _stung like salt in a wound.

He found his way to the bathroom on one of the research and development floors and made sure no one was around. Not that they would be. It was Wednesday. Wednesday was R&D's day off. …Mostly because of Wednesday being 'hump day' and Tony having the mental maturity of a five year old.

He locked himself in one of the stalls and dialed Bruce's number.

Had he ever been this pathetic? Hiding in a bathroom stall and calling someone just to hear their voice? Was it still pathetic even if no one else had to know?

"Tony?" Bruce answered.

"I can't do this, Bruce." Tony whined and leaned his head against the tile wall to his left. "I just can't. It's too much."

"Tony, it's been two days. You can't give up yet." Bruce told him.

"I know! Only two days. But I feel like… Fuck it, I'm _dying._" Tony complained.

"Come home." Bruce said simply. "I'm sure they'll get over it. It's not the first time you've bailed on a meeting and, knowing you, it won't be the last."

"Yeah, okay. I'll come home." Tony said, swallowing past the lump in his throat.

"It'll be all right, Tony. I'm here for you. I'll be in the penthouse." Bruce said.

"Yeah, I know. Bye." Tony said and hung up.

* * *

Bruce stared down at his phone and stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans. He knew this wasn't going to be easy, he had just severely underestimated how hardit was going to be for Tony. He'd _tried_ to get Tony to lay low for the first couple of days, but the billionaire inventor had a reputation to uphold and he utterly refused to 'sit around feeling sorry for himself'. Bruce didn't blame him, really, but he might as well say 'I told you so' when Tony got home. Or he could just be a shoulder to cry on, because it sounded like Tony was on the verge of tears.

When he found his way to the penthouse, Steve was still there watching the news. Bruce went to make some more coffee and tried to think of a way to get rid of him without outright asking him to leave.

"You aren't going to the gym today?" He asked trying to sound curious.

"Went this morning early." Steve replied blankly.

"Oh. No jobs for SHIELD or publicity events today either,? It's finally starting to quiet down, I guess." Bruce replied thoughtfully.

"Oh darn. That interview." Steve muttered and made a beeline for the elevator. Bruce thanked the powers that be and switched on the coffee maker. Just as he was pouring milk in Tony's coffee, Jarvis finally announced his arrival. Bruce carried their coffee to the table by the couch as the elevator reached the floor and Tony shambled in. Bruce had to admit that he looked like total shit. Or a zombie with a good hair day.

"Coffee?" Bruce offered. Tony shook his head and flopped onto the couch next to Bruce.

"I don't want anything. I'll barf." Tony mumbled and curled up to rest his throbbing head on the armrest.

"You're going to be fine, Tony. It's going to take time, though. You need to take it easy." Bruce said gently and rubbed Tony's back. "When was the last time you ate anything?"

"I don't know, yesterday? I think. Maybe. I probably ralphed that." Tony mumbled. Bruce shook his head.

"Jarvis, is anyone else around?" Bruce said to the AI. Normally he'd just cook something himself, being the only Avenger that wasn't a fire hazard in the kitchen, but leaving Tony alone didn't seem like a good idea. As much Bruce liked to say that he wasn't _that _kind of doctor, he knew how dangerous alcohol withdrawals could be. If only he could just get Tony to cooperate…

"Ms. Romanov and Mr. Odinson are present currently." Jarvis answered cordially.

"Send Natasha." Bruce ordered, knowing that Thor keeping an eye on Tony in this state would be disastrous. He'd probably come back to find them drowning in mead, and Thor slurring some drunken song about Loki having an affair with a horse.

"Come on, you need to lie down." He gently urged Tony.

A few minutes later found Tony changed into his pajamas and cuddled up against Bruce in his bed. Just being close to him made Tony feel marginally better. He could never remember letting himself be this vulnerable, but the knowledge that he could trust Bruce with it was overwhelming. _Safe_. He was safe. Maybe this was what he always needed.

Tony always liked to think he was strong, that at least by his own unique definition he was a hero. But when it came down to it, all he_ really_ wanted was someone else to run to when no one was looking. Someone who could see all the ugliness and embrace it. Someone who could hold him like the frightened child he sometimes was, and not think any less of him for it.

Even heroes need heroes sometimes.

"Listen, Tony. You need to take it easy. One step at a time." Bruce told him quietly, running his fingers through his hair lightly. "I need to you to tell me right away if… Are you even listening to me?"

Tony grunted vacantly from where he had his face buried in the crook of Bruce's neck to indicate that, yes, he was listening. Sort of.

"If you think you are having hallucinations or feel disoriented, you _need_ to tell me." Tony tightened his vice-like grip on Bruce's already wrinkled button down shirt that was a few sizes too big for him. He tried not to think of the last time he'd tried to quit drinking. He'd forgotten about the hallucinations. And he was having a hell of a time figuring out _how _he'd forgotten about giant purple poison-spitting centipedes crawling out of the walls and gnawing at his hands and feet. …The only thing nearly as shitty had been that one time he'd been stupid enough to drop acid at a frat party back in his college days. At least he hadn't been alone for that – even if he did wake up in a hospital to a royally pissed off Howard Stark standing over him.

"Tony?"

"I'm all right. Sorry. This is just… Shit." He said and tried to relax.

"Bruce?" They heard Natasha call from the lounge. Bruce carefully extricated himself from Tony and promised not to be long.

"Tony's having withdrawals." He explained to her hastily. "He hasn't eaten anything since yesterday. I just need you to sit with him while I go make some food, unless you think you can handle scrambled eggs and some toast without burning the tower down."

Natasha's lips quirked into a smile. "I'll babysit. Cooking isn't in my skill set." She said with a wink and pushed a stray strand of vibrant red hair behind her ear. 'Skill sets' aside, Bruce had a hard time imaging the woman in front of him dressed in jeans and a t-shirt as a master assassin. She was like an entirely different person without the cat suit. …Even if she was probably armed to the teeth with concealed weapons even then. He wouldn't doubt that she slept with at least two handguns and a grenade under her pillow.

"I won't be long, just keep an eye on him. Like if he's hallucinating, or-"

"I know what alcohol withdrawal symptoms are, Dr. Banner. I'm dating Clint, remember?" Natasha said with a smirk. They all knew Clint was only slightly less of an alcoholic than Tony, even if the archer would admit it over his dead body.

"Right, I'll be back soon." Bruce rambled and made his way to the kitchen a few floors down.

Natasha watched him go and strode into Tony's room. She nearly rolled her eyes at the sight of him curled into the fetal position and clinging to a pillow for dear life.

"Man up, Stark. You've survived worse." Natasha said in a bored tone. He ignored her entirely. She sat on the edge of the bed and shook his shoulder. "You and Bruce. I never would have seen that coming. I'm actually a little surprised. So how did that happen?"

That got his attention. Tony rolled over and looked up at her in a sluggish attempt to figure out if she was joking or serious. _Serious, _he decided when his eyes fell on Natasha's face that was completely, and most likely intentionally, devoid of emotion.

"I don't know what would make you think that. I'm not gay." Tony said flatly. In a way, he wanted everyone to know. It would be easier than hiding it. But for Bruce's sake, he'd been doing his best to keep his mouth shut.

"I'm not blind. I'm a spy and an assassin, remember? I notice all the little details everyone else misses; they're the ones that really matter in my line of work." The Black Widow explained, carefully watching his pitiful attempt a guarded expression. Tony just shook his head and rolled back over.

"You know, like the way you smile at him when you think no one's looking. Or, the way he always gets your coffee for you without asking – light with half and half, but he doesn't know how the rest of us take our coffee. And there's more. Bruce isn't an easy read, but he always seems happy after he's been working on something with you. Also, Stark, you kind of suck at lying." Natasha continued, knowing Tony was listening even if he was pretending to ignore her existence.

"So, because Bruce knows how I like my coffee that automatically means we're dating?" Tony grumbled and glared at her reproachfully.

"Actually, no, that just made me suspicious. This was what confirmed it." Natasha said and dropped her phone on the bed by Tony's side. He snatched it and looked at the screen that was showing a text message from him sent to both her and Bruce sometime that morning while he was still in the board meeting. _ Huh? I didn't text her._

"I think I need a hug. Or a blowjob. Or possibly both. Can you wear that purple shirt for the blowjob?" The text read. Tony groaned and buried his face in his pillow. _Really need to be more careful with the contacts list..._

"I don't suppose you can pretend you never saw that?" He whined.

"Not after the mental image, no. Not a chance." Natasha quipped, with a predatory grin. Tony laid there in silence for a moment at a loss trying to think of a possible comeback or some kind of blackmail material. But, one does not simply blackmail the Black Widow. "Tony, Don't hurt him – whatever you do. Bruce isn't some bint you dragged home from a strip joint."

"I know that James Bond, Jesus. Can you just -"

"Natasha, you still here? Get out here and eat something, Tony." Bruce called from the lounge as he settled back onto the couch and checked his phone to see a missed text from Natasha that she'd sent earlier. Curiously he opened it, wondering why she'd bother to text him. Usually she only texted him if Clint did something stupid and needed medical attention but wouldn't admit to it.

"Congratulations?" It said.

"Congratulations for what?" Bruce asked as the assassin in question left the bedroom with Tony positively sulking behind her.

"Don't forget the purple shirt." Natasha said with a smirk and shoved Tony into the couch next to him. The look of horror on Bruce's face was priceless.

"Hate you so much..." Tony grumbled and prodded at the scrambled eggs Bruce made him with his fork.

"Tony! I swear to God -!"

"I didn't mean to -"

"Eat. The. Food. ...I need to go change my shirt." Bruce snapped, but winked knowingly. Tony dropped the fork that was halfway to his mouth that was hanging open in shock. Natasha clapped a hand over her mouth, but wasn't fast enough to stifle a girlish giggle.

"I suppose that's my cue to leave." Natasha said and headed for the elevator. Tony couldn't help but squirm when Bruce turned his gaze back to him. To his surprise, the doctor smiled and let out a bark of laughter.

"She already knew." Bruce said simply. "Either Steve told her, or she saw something. She did offer to kick your ass for me, though."

"I believe it." Tony said miserably and forced himself to nibble on his toast. "Which means I'd better behave because I'd literally rather have the Hulk kick my ass than her. I might survive the Hulk. But I don't think I need to worry about that, because you're officially the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'm gonna try really hard not fuck it up."

"Was that an 'I love you' in the language of Tony Stark?" Bruce asked, grinning. Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Depends on whether or not I get that blowjob."

"So, that's a yes."

"Of course it was, Stephen Hawking."

Bruce chuckled and ruffled Tony's hair. _At least it will never get boring, _he told himself as he left to go search for that hideous purple shirt that Tony had bought him a few months ago as a joke...


End file.
